author
james bryne
The Event: aromapoetry
The Poet: James Bryne
The Poem: Stroke
The family said Grandfather had a stroke
Drunk one night on cheap Irish whisky
Coming out from another binge
At the local lock-in,
Suddenly, lightening forked at random Deep inside his skull
The change arrived with such furious calm
That he didn’t even have time
To name it
Standing outside the slowly dying
Lights of The Merlin’s Cave
Half his face full of smiles
He wished for anything
Fluid or distinct
Unable to break
The shore of speech
A mouth tipped with sound
Limp cries, geriatric consonants
That no one could hear
© James Bryne
© The Authors retain all rights to their work.
